Here is a photo of my dear friend Hamish, who passed yesterday. We were out when the news came in, and although we somewhat expected it, it was a terrible shock to me.
I can't even begin to tell you how much I loved Hamish and his Westie ways. We would argue, tell each other off (him to me quite gently, me, not so!), talk about books, the news of the day, the quality of the snow, not much that we didn't discuss.
I tried to talk him out of being angry with Gail about silly things, about apologizing when very rarely he bit someone, I just can't imagine who I can talk to like that anymore. Who will tell me when I'm wrong? Who will make me laugh when they do tell me off.? Who will have his wisdom? Who will have his Temper?
I just don't know how it can be done, that I will be able to get along without Hamish. He was my best boy.
Here is part of a little poem for Gail fromThe House Dogs Grave by Robinson Jeffers
You were never master, but friend. I was your friend. I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end, I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still Yours.
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My Mom was telling a friend about Hamish, and that he wasn't well. Mom said when he goes I will feel just as bad as when I lost Otis the Scottie at age 16.
So here we are, both feeling empty and wishing Hamish would have stayed just a little longer.
Stella and Jo